The Vanguard army spent the rest of the day marching out of the western valleys and back toward the captured eastern ports. The massive ironclads still sat anchored in the harbor, their dark metal hulls a comforting sight for the returning troops.
In the center of the marching column, a reinforced wooden prison wagon rattled over the cobblestone roads. General Boros sat slumped in the corner, clutching his bandaged hand to his chest. The general looked up as the heavy iron doors swung open.
Two Vanguard Troglodytes roughly shoved Jason and Chloe into the back of the wagon before locking the doors from the outside.
Boros stared in absolute disbelief. He recognized the two youths immediately. They were supposed to be the divine saviors of the Fourth Continent, wielding the absolute power of the gods to crush Aethelgard's enemies.
Now, they were covered in dirt, weeping openly, and chained together like common thieves.
